But that was a cynical thought.
She tried to focus on Sarah’s chatter as she worked. Erin didn’t think most eighteen-year-olds—even if they knew how to cook—took the time to wash the prep dishes and wipe down the countertops, but Sarah worked with smooth efficiency. Because she was in a hurry to leave? Or was it simple practice from managing the household for her father?
“Okay, I’m out of here,” she announced when she was done. She kissed Remy on the cheek. “Ally will be here to pick me up any second. I just texted her.”
“You really can’t stay and share the feast?” Erin asked, genuinely disappointed. She appreciated the insights she’dgotten about Remy and was enjoying getting to know his daughter better.
“Ally and I are going to do our fingernails with some manicure art stuff she got at The Strand.” Sarah wriggled her bare digits for emphasis. “I guess her house is super nearby?”
She peered out the window into the dark.
“Right over there.” Erin pointed. There were fields between her house and her mother’s and Scott and Bethany’s, but they were still close enough to see lights in one another’s windows. “You could have jogged if it wasn’t starting to pour.”
“Oh, I see her taillights! She’s backing out now.” Sarah whirled around and gave Erin a hug, her hair silky smooth and apple scented. “Hope you like the quiche!”
“I’m going to love it. Thank you so much.” Erin walked her to the front door. Rain spattered through the screen despite the deep overhang on the porch. “Want an umbrella?”
“No. I’ll be fine. See you at the shoot tomorrow. And remind Dad that Ally’s taking me back to the B and B after?”
“Of course.” Erin waved at Ally as her niece pulled into the driveway. “Have fun.”
When she closed the door behind her, the house seemed unusually quiet. Remy stood in the dim hallway between her and the kitchen, his shoulders backlit in a way that put him in shadow.
Even the outline of him was handsome with his square shoulders and narrow hips. He wore a blue dress shirt with the cuffs rolled up and the collar unbuttoned.
“She sure fills a house, doesn’t she?” Erinaccepted the glass of wine Remy held out to her, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange.
“Always has.” Remy lifted his glass in the direction of the front door. “And cheers to her for that or I would have lost my mind long before now.”
Erin understood that now, having had the chance to see them together. While Remy obviously excelled at his job, Sarah had more than held her own on the home front. They seemed to have a good relationship, but when Erin thought about what they’d been through together, she ached for them both.
She nodded at the love seat in the front room and Remy followed her there, taking a seat beside her. She didn’t bother turning on the lights. The lightning outside the window provided a spectacular show.
“Where did she learn to cook like that?” Erin settled deeper into the leather cushions, making her feet comfortable on the rattan coffee table while they waited for their dinner to bake.
“Self-taught, I guess. She’s always had an interest in cuisine, but she truly started cooking with a vengeance once it was just her and me.”
Erin’s throat dried up as she pictured a grieving girl learning how to cook to feed herself and her father.
“She’s been very good to you,” she observed quietly before taking a sip of the pinot grigio Remy had brought. “I didn’t want to ask in front of her, but I’ve been wondering how things went at the police station.”
“They kept the letter. Initially, Sarah didn’t want to see what it said, but after I read it and the police did, too, we encouraged her to take a look.”
“You said it wasn’t threatening.” That’s as much as he’d offered in his text.
“No.” His jaw tensed. Even in the lightning flashes, she could see the hard set to his profile. “He apologized for sharing anything about her mother with—” is hand fisted on the sofa beside her “—others. He said he didn’t expect her to ever forgive him, but he wanted her to know he was sorry for that and for not being a part of her life.”
The words were halting as if each one stuck in his throat.
“It sounded sincere?” She tried to reconcile her vision of Liv Weldon—the artist for whom Remy had sacrificed his photography to provide her with more opportunities—with Sarah’s felon biological father.
Surely, the man must have some redeeming qualities to have wooed a woman like Liv in the first place.
“I thought so. And, as you can imagine, I searched for any turn of phrase that could be construed as malicious or remotely insensitive.”
“So does Sarah feel she’ll be safe at home again now that the police are aware this guy has tried to contact her? And what about the social media messages from an unknown account?”
“The police are looking into it and they suggested she delete her account. As for how safe Sarah will feel back home…I didn’t bring that up.” He shook his head and set down his glass. “The past few days with her have just really knocked me on my butt. I figured I’d take a day or two of no drama and ask her counselor’s advice. There’s no rush to get home with Sarah’s school on vacation next week anyhow.” His eyes found hers. “Besides, this town has been damn good to me. I don’t mind sticking around a little longer.”
